The view
by cornwallace
Summary: We are fixed where we stand
1. Miles

"What are you trying to prove?"

Someone said that to me. Or asked me that, rather.

What am I trying to prove? That's a damn good question. One worth asking, too. What am I doing here? Why do I proceed?

This shit's dumb, when I really look at it. And now I seem to have made her cry. Sobs break out in muffled segments through her hands, clasped on either side of her face.  
She looks pretty pathetic, really.  
Sorry about that. Or something.  
I honestly can't say I care. I know I should, but I don't. That is that.

Sorry, babe. Better luck next time?

Look, I say, while advancing towards her to "console" and "comfort" her.

"I love you, Cream. I just didn't want to hurt you."

"You ARE hurting me, stupid!"

She only cries more. She only cries louder.  
I hate chicks, sometimes. If they didn't have twats they would be completely fucking useless.

"Baby"

"No! Fuck you!"

She's hitting me and trying to push me away. I could never remember a time in my life when she had been so aggressive. Don't think I've ever heard her say the word "fuck" before, either.  
Ah, well.

You live.  
You learn.  
You grow.

It's a beautiful cycle.

Where was I?  
Something about Cream.

Oh, right. Dumping her. It wasn't easy. The bitch is a little crazy.  
A little? Okay, maybe a lot. Maybe we're all mad, and just used to it. Maybe it doesn't fucking matter. Maybe I need a beer. So what?

I feel dizzy...

Right. Dumping cream.

I did it for the right reasons. I thought they were the right reasons. Think they are for the right reasons. It makes sense.  
Or maybe she's dumping me. We're definitely having an argument, here. She's definitely sickened by me at this point. Either way, it's decided. We're splitting up.  
Am I repeating myself?  
It doesn't matter.

Let's move on.  
Actually, scratch that. Let's backtrack.

We were a gem, Cream and me. I? Doesn't matter.  
We were meant for each other, or so it seemed.  
We loved each other, and shit.

Things were good. I moved in with her.  
She paid the rent.  
She bought the food.  
She cleaned the house.  
She cooked me dinner.  
The sex was decent.  
She sucked at head. Could not suck dick for shit. Just throwing that out there.  
But it was nice. She didn't seem to complain much in those days.

I miss the silence.

Then she started complaining. Talking about how I need a job, and shit. Talking about how I needed to clean.  
Talking about how I need to learn to cook. What the shit is that? Me? A twenty-two year old man, and you're giving me orders?  
Just where do you think you get the tits to pull some shit like that?

She thought since she owned the house, that she could tell me what to do. Like she could be the man, or something. Well, I don't let that shit slide. So I didn't. And I won't.  
So, this planted the seed. It took a while for things to get like they are. This was just the initial action that started this whole mess. Maybe it happened sooner. Maybe it happened when I agreed to take Cream in. You never know. In a way, this could all be my fault.  
But I doubt it.

* * *

"How could you do this to me?"

Got that question from someone, too. Actually, I heard that a couple times.  
Probably the most asked question.

"How could you?" How could I?

Was the act really that terrible? Was I really the monster everyone made me out to be? No. I wasn't a monster.  
Still not a monster.  
Don't think I'll ever be a "monster"  
That's just silly.  
Silly and dumb.  
Exaggerated.  
I'm a fox.  
Two tails, maybe, but does this actually constitute monster?  
No. Mutant at best. Your arguments are jell-o to my rock solid intellect.

Hm. We were talking about Amy, right?  
Right. Amy.

I always had a thing for Amy. Amy's tits. Yeah. Big ones. Cream hardly has tits. No ass, either. You aren't working with much but a cook in that department. I mentioned Cream couldn't give head, didn't I?

Anyway, Amy always had this thing for Sonic. Me and Sonic don't get along so well. Sonic and I. Whatever. Doesn't matter.  
I don't like the prick, okay?  
We started out friends.  
"Best buds" he used to call us. This was, of course, back when I was stupid and young. Not stupid. I was never stupid. Foolish, perhaps. Naive is better. We'll go with that.

Sonic used me. He struck me for every resource I had, then moved along once there was nothing left. If my feelings could get hurt, they might have been. Instead, I was just pissed off. Insulted.  
The prick.

I helped him.  
Mobotropolis was restored because of me. Well, he helped, yeah, but it was mostly me.  
Okay, well yeah. It wasn't mostly me. It was mostly him.  
But he wouldn't have been able to pull it off without me, no matter how insignificant my role during the actual war.

Look, that shit doesn't matter. What happens, is when Mobotropolis gets reestablished, the fucker takes the credit. He somehow forgets to mention me to the press at all, so I never got made into a cartoon. Comic book. Video game.  
Where's the Tails action figure?  
When do I get my check for the novelty Tails coffee mug? Tee shirt? The Miles Prower spin-off series? I don't.  
I don't, because it doesn't fucking exist.

And that pisses me off.

But Sonic? Fucker's face is on my cereal box. He has his own clothing line. The irony of this, is that he only wears shoes.  
His shoes say his fucking name on them. That's for sure.

Did I see a dollar of any of this money? Did I get any recognition? Did I even get a cameo in the movie that came out last summer about the war? Nope. Nothing.  
Unless you look really closely into SONIC'S FUCKING SHADOW!!

See there? No? You still can't see me? Don't worry. I never could, either.

* * *

"I thought we were friends"

Hah. That's a laugh.

I mentioned Sonic and Amy together for a specific reason. You see, I had always had this thing for Amy. I said that, right? And Amy always had this thing for sonic. Following? Okay, now Sonic was never interested. Sonic never really liked Amy. Not perfect enough for his godly super hero standards, or some such stupid bullshit. No, he wanted a princess. Princess Sally.  
But Sally had this proverbial boner for Antoine. And just when you think the chain might end; it doesn't. Antoine has a not-so-proverbial boner for Bunnie Rabbot, and she only has a proverbial boner for god, because she has no lady parts, and can't have sex with anything, also causing a lack of emotional feelings for anyone or anything else whatsoever. Alright, got that?

Good.

Okay, lets recap.

Cream loves me. I love Amy. Amy loves Sonic. Sonic loves Sally. Sally loves Antoine. Antoine loves Bunnie. And Bunnie loves the invisible man that she can't touch, feel, or see, who supposedly loves everyone, starting the whole fucking cycle all over again.

But Princess Sally died of lung cancer. Yep. Lung cancer.

So Sonic did the only thing he could think to do. Settle for second best.  
So I figured I had better do the same. Settle for second best.  
Stick with the options you are given, rather than seeking something exotic.

Cream.  
She was a safe one. Probably would have never cheated on me. Probably would have never broken up with me. Probably would have put up with my bullshit a lot longer before taking any kind of action, like attempting to kick me out.  
I say attempting, because she would simply not be successful. I'm definitely bigger than she is.

Yeah. She was safe. But safe is boring.  
Life isn't life without taking chances.

Right, guys?

* * *

I was lost.  
In a daze.  
Stuck in a state of constant motion. Circles.  
Where was I going?  
Where could I go?

What about the future?  
You know?

I simply couldn't see things working with Cream. She was always upset. I guess I shouldn't blame her. Females are insane. Something about the chemical imbalance. Too much X chromosome, not near enough Y. Fucks with their heads. No shit.

Every day was exactly the same.

I needed out.

Amy and me were friends, yeah. I. Fuck you.

Anyway, we were friends. Old, old friends. Friends. As far as we ever got. Before this night.

I got lucky. Yeah. Lucky.

She was crying when I called her. I asked if she wanted to do something, or if she needed anything, and she supposed she could use some company.  
Hah.  
Gotcha.

I showed up with the sympathetic switch on.  
People tell me I should have been an actor.  
All the right things get me into her pants.

And let me tell you guys something. Cream doesn't have shit on Amy. Nope, not one bit. Amy, the little nymphomaniac that she is, was the best fuck I had ever had.

Never found out exactly how Cream found out. Can't say I was too careful, so it simply didn't surprise me.

This puts us back at the beginning. Or, the present rather.

With all of this in mind, I decide it's time to just end it with her. Stop things entirely. Force it all to come to a screeching halt.

"It's over."

"What?!"

"You heard me. It's over."

And then I walked away. I never saw Cream again after that day. Heard from her, sure, but I sure as fuck never saw her again.

* * *

Eat shit, Padro.


	2. Amy

Gosh.

Okay, guys(girls, too. I know you're out there. Somewhere.), I'm sorry. For reals. I won't do it again. That whole "out of character" thing was really awful of me. I mean, to portray such innocent characters, in such horrid situations? What the heck was I thinking? I'm ashamed. Embarrassed. Stupid.  
It won't happen again. Swear. I've decided to clean up my act entirely. This story has been revamped, and reloaded. In character to tha max. Hold on to your balls, 'cause you're about to get knocked on your ass. IC style. On the real. (If you're a female, and you are reading this, I would like to deeply apologize for the previous statement. Please, hold on to your tits. YAY FOR POLITICAL CORRECTNESS!!)

* * *

"Why don't you just leave me, then?" he said in an argument to me one time.

It is at this point, I start to wonder that myself. Why don't I?  
How did things get to this point?

I used to know what I wanted. I used to have a goal.  
Used to have ambitions.  
Used to have dreams.  
Something to make me smile while thinking about.

Now I just frown.  
Takes more muscles? My face is stuck like this.  
I used to be so happy.  
What happened?

Sonic. That's what happened.  
He looks great, there's no denying this. And he used to be such a hero. He always seemed like such a nice guy.  
I loved him, I truly did.  
Pursuing him was fun. Yeah, it hurt when he eluded me, but at the same time, isn't that what made it interesting? Chasing a goal?  
Once you get the prize, you force yourself to be satisfied.  
Believe me, I was ecstatic about it for a while. Life was truly good.

But when you spend more time with someone, they either start to get on your nerves, or you start to get on theirs. I'm hard to annoy, so it's usually the latter in my case.  
So he's always annoyed.  
And he's always grouchy.  
When he's not off doing whatever stupid commercials, or "hanging out with his friends" he never wants to do anything. Just sit and skulk.  
He cheats on me. It's obvious he cheats on me. Leaves for days at a time, without saying anything. When I ask him about it, he has to think. Think, then lie. Some people can't look you in the eye when they lie to you. They simply can't. Even I can't. But he's one of them, too.  
It's called being a bad actor. Something these television producers don't understand.

I get all the celebrity bullshit from him, and I reap almost none of the benefits. He doesn't want me to have a job, but he doesn't give me money.  
He wants me to sit around the house.  
Cook and clean.  
He wants to get me pregnant, so he can have offspring that he doesn't have to take care of. He doesn't want me to have a life. He wants to be my life. To control my life entirely. Then he wants to go out, get drunk and fuck other women? Do drugs and god knows what else, so he can come home and complain about dinner not being hot?

I've never hated someone in my whole life. Before now.

I just want to feel happy again. Is that so much to ask from him? Nothing brings me joy anymore.

He wants to go out there and fuck up his own life? Get AIDS from the wrong person, and piss all him money away on beer and gambling? Fine. Go for it.  
But he wants me to go down with him.  
And I couldn't let that happen.

-

So many times I promised myself it could work. We can make it work, baby. Was that my quote or his? We both said it numerous times, I'm sure.  
You grow numb to the constant bickering you endure.

But sometimes, it's harder than others.

All I said was that I didn't want him drinking so much. This led to a disagreement, which became an argument.  
Almost caused a fight. But Sonic just stormed out, after finishing most of his beer, and tossing it behind him on the way out. The glass bottle shattered on the tile. The remains of beer and spit splash against my shins in tiny droplets.

I cleaned it up. I didn't want him to be mad at me anymore.

About thirty minutes later, the phone rang.  
I just stared at it for the longest while.

Finally, six rings in, I pick it up.

-

"Hello?"

"Amy."

It's not Sonic. This puzzles me.

"Yes?"

"We need to talk."

"About what? Who is this?"

"Miles."

"Tails?! Oh my gosh, how have you been?"

"Not so well. You and Sonic are still together, yes?"

My heart skips a beat.

"Yes. Why is it that you ask?"

"Because I just saw him making out with some green hedgehog in this bar."

Silence.

"I'm sure it's him, Amy. I'm sorry. I just thought you should know."

...  
A sigh.

"It's fine. I already know."

"You know?"

"Yeah. Look, do you think you could come over here? I could use some company"

"Sure thing, Amy. Where is it your staying these days?"

-

Tails was just what I needed. He was like a dream come true. As clichИ as it sounds, he was my knight in shining army. Coming to save me from this castle, this dungeon tower I'm trapped in.  
The only thing is; Tails is a good actor.  
A very good actor.

Of course, there's no way I could have known this.

His reasoning was that if Sonic's going to cheat on me, rightfully I had the right to cheat on him. I could break it to him later. When I was more prepared.

It took me a couple weeks before I could break it to him.  
I had to get out of there. I moved in with my mom. Sonic was unhappy about this. He would always show up at mom's house, pounding on the door, screaming to see me. We never responded. We thought if he believed I wasn't there, he'd go away.  
He didn't. Mom called the police on him once or twice. He was never arrested.

Tails said he would be there for me. To protect me from him. He was always so sweet.

But what I didn't know at the time, was that Tails had a girlfriend.  
One who didn't cheat on him. One who loved him a lot.  
One who pays his rent.  
One who buys his food.  
And I started to feel low inside. I started to feel disgusted when I found this out.

I had always wondered why he wouldn't take me home.  
Why we met in motels.  
Why he was just as secretive as I.

I simply didn't understand it. But I didn't think about it. I didn't want to.  
I had something to cling to, until I heard him talking to her on the phone.  
He's a good liar, yes. But can he make up an excuse on the spot? Heavens, no.

So I broke it off with Tails, found out who she was, and I told her. Simple as that.

* * *

Hahahahahahahah...


	3. Sonic

"I can't take this shit anymore!"

Hearing the word shit come from such a delicate voice.. I feel guilty.  
I did that.  
I ruined her.

I suppose you could say Princess Sally turned me into what I am. Not directly, of course. She was the sweetest thing, ever.  
No. It was her death. It left me bitter, I suppose you could say.

I can't help it. I am the way I am. I try to stop it, I really do.  
But it simply comes out. I don't even catch what kind of asshole I'm being until after everything is said and done.  
She said she felt like an animal trapped in a cage. Watching her suffer and work for my own amusement. I didn't mean to do that. I really feel horrible.

I'm always grouchy, yeah. That doesn't mean I don't love her. I keep her here, because I want to protect her.

Sally was murdered. Assassinated.  
Someone killed her. Some spineless piece of shit, that we caught and executed.  
He seemed like a patsy, but I didn't care. He did it, and I injected his death right into him, myself.  
It felt good. I'm not going to lie.  
Like all my aggression, and pain was temporarily inside that needle.  
It was like I came poison into his veins. Temporary.  
Satisfactory, then... it's over. And you feel nothing.  
Except a bit tired, maybe. A bit drained.

And it isn't enough.  
It didn't bring her back. I'll still never see her again.

Amy. Fuck, Amy.  
I didn't mean for things to end up like this.  
This was a total accident. And it was my fault.  
My fault. All of it.

Why did I have to fuck things up this badly?

I just wanted her to be safe. At home. I didn't mean to lock her up.  
Like some animal.

I was still an ass. I can't deny this.  
Still am.  
The hole can't be filled. It just gets bigger.

I need a drink.

* * *

I don't get why people go to bars. The alcohol is more expensive, and you have to risk going home intoxicated. It doesn't matter to me, because I'm a celebrity. I can get away with pretty much anything, you see. I couldn't kill or rape anyone, but no one's going to fuck with me if I'm drunk. Well, almost no one.  
I have money to blow. That's why I go to bars.  
More money than I know what to do with, you know?  
Instead of blowing it on something like speed or coke, I drink.  
I drink a lot. But I'm not an alcoholic. Nope. No sir. Not me.  
I can quit any time. I just really like drinking.

I can drink anyone under the table. It's a talent, you see.  
A natural art form. You have to be born for it. I sure as fuck was.

I guess some people come here to meet other people. Some people might just be looking to escape, for whatever reason. Bill collectors. Family. Maybe it's just convenient, and on the way home from a hard days work. Maybe people really just don't give a shit about this money they work so hard to earn.  
Not me. I don't work hard. I don't deserve this shit. The fame. The fortune.

Did you know that people look at me like I'm some sort of hero? A fucking savior, for heaven's sake! I'm no savior. Not any more.  
People come up to me, asking for autographs. Begging for autographs.  
Telling me how much they admire me.

I tell them, no. I'm not Sonic. My name's Maurice.  
They never believe me, so I show them my I.D.  
And they always apologize.  
They always feel stupid, but I'm the one being a dick.

I don't deserve the admiration.

Another hit from the glass.

Drinking never makes you feel better. Only worse.  
It only intensifies your depression.

Another hit from the glass.

But I want to feel numb.

Another hit from the glass.

Maybe I'll forget.

Another hit from the glass, draining it entirely.

I probably won't.  
Probably just end up in the fetal position next to the toilet, later.  
Probably.

As I stand to exit the bar, I throw a fifty on the counter. I think I ordered about sixteen dollars worth, but that's fucking peanuts to me.  
I don't feel like waiting for change.

Turning around, I can barely believe my eyes.

I'm somewhat speechless.

* * *

Cream found my phone number some how. Cream is a rabbit I never met before, but she knows all about me, which isn't surprising. When everyone knows who you are, the information is available.  
People probably know more about me than I do. It's sad, but true.

So Cream tells me she absolutely HAS to speak with me, so I tell her to meet her at the bar.  
My first impression was that it was some obsessed fan. I went anyway, because I was somewhat drunk and horny. Amy had left me over personal shit. I didn't want to think about it. I needed to think about something else.  
And she'd have to be pretty damn ugly at this point, for me to say no.  
I need something. Anything.  
Plus, she sounded pretty hot over the phone.  
Voices can be deceiving, though.

The news she brings me is upsetting, to say the least.  
It only makes me want to drink more.

"Amy came to me," she says "and told me some rather unsettling news"

She tells me that her boyfriend, Tails, someone whom I haven't heard from in years, was apparently having an affair with Amy.  
And that this had been going on for a while.

She didn't want to have sex with me at all. She wanted to make me feel worse, or something, I don't know. I wanted to ask her why, but I was speechless.

Amy. My innocent Amy.

I did this. It was my fault.

Cream left shortly after. No sex was had that night.

* * *

"Hey, little buddy."

The words are coarse coming out. In retrospect, I wonder how they sounded to him.  
He doesn't say anything. He just looks at me, and turns away. Walks over to the other side of the bar, and sits. Orders a White Russian.

I go to meet him.

"Hey" I say, once again.

He just ignores me. Like I'm not even there.

Approaching him on his right side, I lean against the bar into his line of sight. His head doesn't move, but his eyes dart away. His face is stone.

"You're not even going to look at me?"

Nope. I didn't even need an answer. I just reared back, and hit him in the face as hard as I could. Right hook connecting to his nose. A snap, and blood spurts out.  
He falls back, a thud against the wooden floor.

And I'm out.

* * *

On the way home, I stopped by the drugstore, and bought two packs of this cold medicine. These little red pills with Cs on them. I took this shit when I was a kid, to get high. Whenever people chug certain types of cough medicine? Same thing. You trip.  
It was my favorite drug of all time, until I found out how insanely bad it is for you.

I think this is why I picked them up. Because I absolutely don't give a shit anymore? That's probably it. I don't exactly know what I was thinking.

You aren't supposed to exceed two in twenty-four hours. You're only supposed to take eight to trip. There are sixteen in each. Do the math.

When I got home, I took them with a quarter of a gallon of vodka. Over the course of about two hours.  
And it was definitely too much.

* * *

None of this feels real. Like I just made it all up, or something. My head doesn't even feel like it's attached to my body.  
Every noise is accompanied with a static hum. I tried watching some television, but it frightened me, so I threw things at it until it stopped.  
Relief. Followed immediately by different forms of physical and mental discomfort.

I can't deal with this shit. I need help.  
Fuck.

Trying to drag my lazy carcass across the floor. My face is planted on the carpet, and my limbs are faintly and slowly pushing my numb body along. My weak, retarded body. It won't listen to me. I have never, in all my life and experimentation with drugs been this fucked up.

It's like that song says. Say hello to the rug's topography.

Thankfully the bathroom door is open. What drags on like miles is only ten feet.  
Time seems to have slowed down entirely.  
Making my way across the tile floor, and over to the toilet, I reach my hands up to grab the rim.  
But I'm not strong enough.  
Just too weak. Too utterly lame for my own good.

Vomit.

Red pools over the solid white tiles, running across the white flat surface, and flowing rapidly through the cracks and groves between the tiles.

It's getting dark. The light's on, but my vision clouding over.  
This is it.  
This is dying.  
Oh shit.  
There's no light. Only darkness.  
Only suffering.

I don't think about what one would expect. I don't think about god. I don't think about whether or not I'm going to heaven, or hell.  
No.  
I think about my life. And what I accomplished.  
I'm satisfied with the first half.

The second half I wish never happened.  
I kind of wish I'd died sooner.

I'm sorry, Amy.

Closing thoughts?

Fuck you, Mobius. You undeserving pack of whores.


	4. Cheese

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	5. Cream

Keep in mind that no one wants to make themselves look bad. Opinions are biased. Question everyone. No one wants to tell the whole truth. It's up to you to distinguish it from the bullshit. Now on with the super-exciting conclusion.

Thank you.

cornwallace

* * *

She met me at a diner. Had some urgent business to discuss. She said she didn't have much time to talk.  
Why not? I wasn't doing anything. Tails damn sure wasn't around.  
I didn't know who she was. I asked her name, and she told me it was Amy.  
I don't remember meeting an Amy.

Maybe I have. Maybe I haven't. Didn't want to offend her, so I didn't say anything. Went along.  
I'll recognize her face when I see her. Or maybe I won't.  
Maybe it's jus some nutcase? Who knows?  
But we're meeting in a diner. There can't be danger involved.  
Right? Right.  
Right, right.

So I show up at this diner, and sit at an empty table by a window.  
Looking out the window, staring into the crowd of people that flood the streets? How will I recognize this person? She didn't even tell me what she looked like.  
All I know is her name.

And suddenly she's sitting right across from me. I know her, because she calls me by name.

"Cream?"

"Amy?"

"Yeah. That's me."

"What's this about?"

She looked like she was afraid of what she was about to say. Never a good sign.  
Her eyes welled up. Looked like she was tryin' so hard to keep from crying.  
I didn't know what to make of it.

"I..."  
she pauses. Looks down.

"Where did you get my number?"

"From his cell phone."

I can feel my eyes widening. My fist clenching.

"Whose?"

"Tails. I didn't know he was seeing you and..."

"And?"

"I slept with him. I started seeing for a little while. I cheated on Sonic with your boyfriend. Sonic was just treating me so bad, and... I don't know."

She started crying.

All I feel is anger.  
Anger and disgust.

How could he do this to me?

"I'm not exactly innocent, myself, or anything, but I mean... Tails used Sonic cheating on me as an excuse to cheat on him, too." her voice breaks and she sniffles "I never even considered the possibility of him having a girlfriend. It didn't even cross my mind. Maybe I was just stupid.."

I don't say anything.  
I don't have anything to say.

"I should have just dumped Sonic and moved on a long time ago. Now I've cause this whole mess, and I... I'm so sorry."

She sits there for a while, then silently excuses herself without saying anything else. I guess she was done.

I'm not exactly sure what to do at this point. What can you do? Things need thinking through. Deep thought and planning is required in a situation like this.

I get up from the table, and leave.

-

There were problems with Tails, sure. But he was a good guy aside from that.  
Easily led by the temptation of others.  
A bit foolish, my dear Tails.  
We can make this work.  
No.  
No, it can't.  
He's just going to get more useless after this.

I have to put a stop to this. As much as it's going to hurt.  
As hard as it's going to be on me.

It has to be done.

-

"It's over, Tails."

"Baby, please"

"Get the fuck out of my apartment."

"Just hear me out"

"No."

"Just"

"No!"

"Cream"

"Get the fuck out, Tails!"

"Really? Are you seriously ready to throw what we have away?"

"The only thing getting thrown out is you. Go. Shoo."

"What about all the good times we had together, baby?"

"The good times? Are you referring to the fond memories I have of wasting my time, effort, and love on a worthless piece of shit? The ones of some worthless deadbeat suckling from my proverbial teat, then going off and leaving me abandoned? You think you can just have sex with some whore, and come crawling back with your tails between your legs? You really think you can pull that off?"

"Don't be like this."

"You're not on the lease, asshole. Get the fuck out of my apartment before I call the cops. Sleep in your fucking car for all I care."

-

After that, he left. I never talked to him again, but I heard he got his ass kicked at some bar, and disappeared. Whatever. I don't care. I'm not bitter. I don't miss him. I don't care. Really. I don't.  
I don't.

I felt that Amy's boyfriend, the famous Sonic the hedgehog had a right to know about Amy's infidelity with Tails. I thought he should see who she deliberately ruined their relationship for, so I brought a picture. I felt really bad for the poor guy, you know? He seemed to take it hard. He was drinking a lot when I was talking to him.  
Apparently a family member or something visited him early that following morning, and found him face first in a pool of his own bloody regurgitation. He was taken to the hospital immediately, and I recently heard he was transferred to a mental hospital, something about being in a constant state of incoherency.  
I wonder what happened to him...

Also, I heard that Amy died or something.  
Something about shoddy breaks. I really don't know anything about it.  
I wouldn't.  
Why would I?

I wouldn't. That's that.

Let's move on.

-

The view was nice, let me tell you. Things didn't look this ugly from far away, so to speak. I could have had plenty of other guys. Instead, I chose to pursue this one. I can't exactly explain it.  
And I finally got him.

I get to this land I've been staring at from afar, and it's a hellhole.  
But you keep telling yourself it's fine. You don't want to admit that it was foolish to waste all the time and effort.

What you refuse to realize, is that you were stupid. You should have just admired the view, but now that you've seen past the illusion, it's ruined forever.

Moral; fantasizing is better than achievement. Fact.

And that's the end of my story.

* * *

There. Am I still getting more and more predictable?  
(Don't be afraid to rip me a new asshole. I deserve one)


End file.
